


Vending Machine

by leighwrites



Series: Land of Rarepairs [13]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: College AU, M/M, get together-y fic, its been a while since i got my stenbrough on, mentions of weed and alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 03:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighwrites/pseuds/leighwrites
Summary: No amount of preparation from his family for college could have possibly prepared Stan for tonight though. No one had told him that there was the possibility of crossing the dorm building’s common room to see a very attractive brunette boy crouched in front of a vending machine with their arm clearly stuck in the flap.





	Vending Machine

Stan had heard a lot of things about how college would be, and so far everything he’d heard had been right. It was stressful, tiring, and he’d spent more time in the library than he had in his dorm; though that suited him just fine since he didn’t get along with his roommate who appeared to be trying to enter the guinness world records book under  _ most girls banged in their first year of college _ . Staying in the library until midnight was definitely a better alternative to being forced out into the hallway for an hour or two and listening to the sounds of moans coming from inside the room.

No amount of preparation from his family for college could have possibly prepared Stan for tonight though. No one had told him that there was the possibility of crossing the dorm building’s common room to see a very attractive brunette boy crouched in front of a vending machine with their arm clearly stuck in the flap. Stan froze, hand loosely wrapped around the strap of his backpack as he watched the boy try, and fail, to pull his arm out.

“Are you really that desperate you have to try and steal from a vending machine?” Stan asked as the boy tried again and failed.

Startled, the boy turned, and Stan felt his breath hitch. The boy at the vending machine had the most intense stormy blue eyes Stan had ever seen, complimented further by the nervous smile on his face. “It’s more like the other way around actually. The vending machine stole from me.”

“What - how can a vending machine steal from you exactly?”

“Well,” the boy raised a hand, pressing his index finger against the glass, “you put the money in and the thing doesn’t give you what you paid for.”

Stan stepped closer and looked into the vending machine where a pack of cheetos had caught on the end of the spiral that kept them in place. “Right. So… you didn’t think to just… buy another item and knock it down?”

“Oh no, I did not think for one second to try that.” The boy said, pointing to a bottle of water a few rows up that had also managed to get caught.

“Not your night for late night snacks.”

“They’re not for me. They’re for my very high roommate.”

Stan crouched next to the boy and carefully grabbed his arm, wriggling it slightly. “And why didn’t this roommate come and get them himself?”

“I needed a break from being stuck in a room with him while he makes out with his boyfriend. Not that it bothers me - third wheel you know?”

Stan let out a laugh. “Yeah, I get that. Okay, deep breath.”

The boy took in a breath and Stan yanked his arm, wrenching him free from the flap. The boy toppled backwards onto the ground, trying to ignore the dull throb in his arm and back as he stared up at the ceiling. “Wow, okay, you could have told me to brace myself instead of  _ deep breath. _ ”

“Sorry.” Stan walked around to the side of the vending machine as the boy sat upright on the floor rubbing at his arm, placing his back to it before raising his leg and slamming his foot against it. The machine shook from the impact, the bottle falling from the spiral and hitting the bag of cheetos, knocking both items down into the retrieval area. “And that’s how you get your stuff.”

“Thanks uh… should I ask how you knew to do that?” 

“Basic common sense.” Stan said as the boy retrieved the items, tossing the bottle up and down in his hand a few times. “Maybe you should think next time before doing something stupid.”

“But then a guardian angel like you wouldn’t come along and help me.” The boy grinned, shoving the pack of cheetos into the pocket of his hoody. “I’m Bill.”

“Stan.”

“Well, thanks for the help Stan! I’ll see you around.”

Stan didn’t think that ‘see you around’ meant ‘see you in class in Monday’. He’d never noticed that Bill was in his philosophy class before now, but there he was right in the middle, sitting next to a boy with wild curly dark hair and a pair of thick glasses who was laughing at something he’d said. Stan couldn’t help but stare at Bill through most of his class. He’d never _ really  _ let himself appreciate another guy before but he was in the perfect position to do so. 

Bill was one column over and three rows ahead. It was, to Stan, the perfect position to completely take in the things he hadn’t noticed at the weekend like the slight red tinge that Bill’s hair had to it in the right lighting, or the way his face lit up when he smiled. It made Stan smile too. Stan had been so wrapped up in looking at Bill that he hadn’t noticed when the class around him was starting to move. Not until Bill had turned to get his back and his eyes met Stan’s.

Stan could feel the heat rising to his face but he still couldn’t look away, and now Bill had caught him staring. Stan expected him to walk across the room give him hell for staring when he stood, but he didn’t. Bill simply pulled the backpack over his shoulder, keeping it loosely in place with his thumb, a smile on his face as he used the rest of the hand to wave, the other carefully balancing both his text and notebooks against his chest.

Stan was frozen in his seat until Bill left, and only  _ then  _ did he gather his things and hastily make his way from the room to his next class. Stan didn’t allow his attention to drift over to Bill in the classes that followed over the next couple of weeks, but he could have sworn he felt eyes on him on more than one occasion. 

“Why don’t you ever talk to anyone?”

Stan looked up from his work, the grip on his pencil falling lax as he saw Bill standing at the other side of the table he was seated at in the dorm common area. Considering how late it was, he wasn’t expecting anyone else to be in there assuming that most of them would have been asleep by now. 

“I - what?”

“I said: why don’t you ever talk to anyone? You’re always on your own.”

“I get work done better that way.”

Bill dropped onto the sofa next to him, leaning back and propping his feet up on the table in front of them, craning his head to look at Stan’s notebook. “Is that all you do? Work?”

“That’s kind of how you pass your classes, Bill.”

“That’s boring. You should live a little.”

“You sound like my roommate.” Stan muttered, looking back down at his notebook and writing something down.

“He must be a smart guy.”

“Hardly. I’m pretty sure all he ever does is drink, smoke and fuck.”

Bill let out a laugh. “Damn, sounds like Eddie’s roommate. Maybe you need to trade places so I stop walking in on Eddie and Richie doing some weird shit in my room all the time.”

“So you want me to trade my current roommate for another one like him?”

“What? No - Eddie’s not - okay the sex part yes, and maybe sociable drinking and smoking but never like… constant. I think he’s like three more incidents away from slamming his roommate’s head through the door and I don’t think the RA is going to appreciate that.”

There was a laugh from Stan as he paused in the middle of writing down a sentence, his attention turning to Bill. “Can you even do that? Switching roommates?”

“If you talk to the RA, yeah. I’d leave out the sex, dugs, and alcohol part though. You just tell them you can’t get along with your roommate and they reassign you. I can’t wait til next year when you can just get an apartment. Then I can stick Eddie and Richie into a room and lock them in there.”

“Wow, you’re not as stupid as I thought you were. You already have your next living arrangement sorted.”

“I - wow okay. The vending machine was a one time thing and you can’t hold it against me.” Bill paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling where there was a dark yellow patch stained against the white from the numerous smokers who would have sat where they were right now. “But yes, we have it planned out. Three bedrooms. One for them, one of me, and one for Beverly.”

“I’m gonna take a shot in the dark here that you grew up together.”

“Is it  _ that  _ obvious?” Bill asked, his attention returning to Stan with a grin. “I grew up in a small town and they were the only ones who were… tolerable as kids. Then we just kinda became our own little group.”

“Sounds nice. I couldn’t wait to get as far away as I could from my town and everyone in it.”

Bill furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Close minded town deeeeeep in the south. No gays or non-christians allowed.”

“ _ Yikes _ , okay, yeah, I see why you moved all the way to the North.” Bill was suddenly on his feet, holding a hand out to Stan. “Come on.”

“What?”

“ _ Come on _ .” Bill urged. “We’re gonna go somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Would you just -  _ come on _ . You’ll see.”

Stan groaned, setting his books aside and though he didn’t take the hand outstretched towards him, he stood and followed Bill from the dorms, out into the warm Spring air, and off the campus into the woods.

“I swear if you brought me out here to murder me -”

Bill chuckled. “ _ Trust  _ me, Stan.”

They walked further into the woods until Stan could hear the thumping of music and laughter followed by a scream and more laughter. Bill grabbed Stan’s wrist and tugged him through a patch of trees into a clearing. There was a fire crackling in the centre, a very abused and battered boombox lying in the bed of a truck, and the dark haired boy that Stan had seen with Bill attempting to dance with a small brunette raised in his arms, hands pushing at the taller boy’s shoulders while a redheaded girl nearby was giggling, can of cider held loosely in her hand while she cheered them on; perched comfortably in the lap of another boy.

“Richie - no - come on! Put me down!” The brunette demanded, kicking out at Richie’s legs in an attempt to get to freedom. “ _ Richie _ !”

Richie didn’t comply with his demands, twirling the boy around again with a grin. “Live a little Eds! Dance! Or does the altitude change bother you?”

Eddie glared at him and delivered a punch to his shoulder with the side of his fist. “Fuckin’ jerk.”

“Richie put him down.” Bill called, startling Richie who dropped Eddie onto his feet as he looked for the source of the sudden voice.

“Billiam!” Richie cheered, bouncing over to him with a wide grin and throwing his arms around him. “What took you so long to come and join the party?”

Bill gestured to Stan once Richie had released him. “I was on my way when I met Stan here and he just looked lonely in the common room I thought I’d bring him along.”

“An outsider!” Richie declared dramatically, slamming a hand onto his chest with a mock look of betrayal on his face. “How could you do this to us?”

Bill punched him playfully in the shoulder and Richie stumbled, clutching the place where Bill hit him. “Shut up you dork.”

“Damn it, what is with you guys and my left shoulder today? The right one deserves attention too!”

“Oh my god do you  _ ever  _ shut up?” The redheaded girl asked as she joined them, a can of cider in each hand. “Wait don’t answer that - we already know you don’t. Silly me for asking.”

“That’s right, Marsh, I’m Richie Tozier and I never learned to  _ shut the fuck up. _ ”

“You got that right you fucking loudmouth!” Eddie called from by the fire.

“He is  _ so  _ aggressive today.” Richie said, exhaling softly. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s kinda hot.”

The redhead rolled her eyes as Richie walked off, holding out one of the drinks to Stan. “Don’t mind Richie, he’s annoying but he’s okay. I’m Beverly but you can call me Bev! Everyone else does. Well… except Richie but that’s because he has a new name for everyone once a month.”

“And they’re always annoying.” Bill said, shooting Stan a smile. “But you get used to them. It’s his way of showing affection. If he gets out of hand you just… gotta say  _ beep beep  _ and he stops.”

Beverly raised her can to her mouth, taking a long swig before grinning. “We figured that out when we were ten. Oh, the little guy Richie is smothering in kisses is his boyfriend, Eddie. Don’t be fooled, he looks tiny and harmless but I’ve seen him break bones and enter  _ feral mode  _ when the need calls for it. And that guy over there,” she pointed to the boy whose lap she’d been sitting in, “is Ben. He’s mine.”

“As you can tell, Beverly likes to assert her dominance.”

Beverly winked, the grin still plastered on her face. “Oh sweetie, you’re  _ all  _ mine. My boys. It’s just Ben is  _ mine  _ mine.” 

Stan found that he really enjoyed his time with Bill and his friends. Beverly had very easily talked him into joining a nature club with her so she knew someone there despite Richie pointing out on numerous occasions that he was joining the same club because she’d pestered him to.

It hadn’t even bothered him that they’d had to sneak back into the dorm building at two in the morning through Bill and Richie’s dorm room window, the buzz of the alcohol making the thrill of almost getting caught exciting. None of them made it out the actual room, passing out in random places to sleep.

And the more time he spent around them over the next two months, the more he realised how attracted he was becoming to Bill. Everything from the pure emotion that shined in his eyes to the way he laughed or even the way he felt whenever he hugged him. Stan both hated and loved the fluttering feeling it sent through his stomach at the same time.

Stan knew that the logical thing to do would be to stay away but he couldn’t. If he didn’t show up to one of their meetups he was hunted down by Beverly or Eddie and  _ dragged  _ to them. This was no different. Beverly had shown up at his dorm, dressed in one of the college’s baggy hoodies, and she hadn’t even given him chance to decline, grabbing his hand and dragging him from the room.

So now he was stuck in Bill and Richie’s dorm, watching Richie attempt to do a handstand against the wall at the foot of his bed and failing horribly because he was too high to judge the space correctly between himself and the wall and Bill was just sitting  _ so damn close _ that it was driving Stan crazy. 

“I swear you have zero depth perception when you’re high.” Bill said, stretching out the best he could considering Beverly was using his lap as a pillow. 

“I have zero depth perception in general.” Richie shot, sitting upright and rubbing at his head. “It’s called being blind.”

Stan rolled his eyes with a laugh. “So put your glasses on so you can actually see, idiot.”

“That’s how things break Staniel.” Richie said a look of mock hurt coming to his face. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to break my glasses so I’m blind forever!”

“Oh my god you are  _ so  _ dramatic.” Stan climbed to his feet, stretching out his limbs. “I need to get a drink and get away from this second hand high that’s starting to kick in. Do any of you need anything?”

Beverly sat up, fishing some money from her jeans and holding it out to Stan. “Water please.”

“You got it.”

“Ah, my hero!”

Bill took the opportunity of not being a pillow to climb to his own feet. “I’ll come with you. I need to get away from the high too. Open a damn window Richie!”

Richie gave them a mock salute as they left the room, stepping into the smoke free hallway. The dorm common room was as empty as it usually was after eleven, the only light coming from the small group of vending machines that were set up at the end. Stan took care of Beverly’s water need first before getting a drink of his own, glancing to Bill who was popped up against the other vending machine and enjoying the cool air that was coming from the air vent.

“You need anything Bill?”

“Nope. I don’t trust that machine. If you recall, that’s the exact machine that tried to eat my arm.”

Stan let out a soft laugh, his head shaking in amusement as he retrieved the items from the machine. “I can’t imagine you’d taste nice, Bill. That’s probably why it spat you back out.”

“I -” Bill paused, a laugh of his own rising. “Okay, fair. That was a good one. Hey, so like, I saw this bird thing and… wondered if you wanted to go to it?”

Stan hummed, tucking the bottle of water into his back pocket so he could open his soda. “Bev mentioned something about going to that too.”

“No I meant… just the two of us… maybe? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just - no forget it - it’s stupid - have fun.”

Stan furrowed his brow. “Bill are you… trying to ask me out? On a date?”

“No - maybe - probably - kind of -”

Stan was laughing again, but it wasn’t insulting, more soft and light at the situation than anything. He reached out with his free hand, grabbing Bill’s own. “Will you calm down? Take a breath. You could have just said  _ do you want to come with me to this thing _ .”

“That was my plan until my words decided not to work.”

Stan smiled, soothing his thumb against the back of Bill’s hand. It seemed to work, Bill calming more with each soothing stroke. “Okay - yeah - a date.”

“Okay then. A date.” Silence fell over them for a moment, Bill shifting awkwardly on the spot. “We uh… we should get back before Beverly dies of thirst.”

“Right, yeah.” Stan agreed, capping his soda. “There’s just… one more thing.”

“What?”

For the first time in his life, Stan allowed himself to be impulsive, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to Bill’s. Bill didn’t respond at first, and Stan wondered if maybe he’d read the whole situation wrong somehow, or if he’d crossed a line, but then Bill was kissing back, pressing him against the vending machine.

“You know, I think I have to change my entire view on this machine.” Bill said once he’d slowly detached his mouth from Stan’s. “It seems to be our personal matchmaker.”

Stan couldn’t help but laugh, twisting his hand into the front of Bill’s shirt and pulling him in for another kiss.


End file.
